


Self Medicating

by Apartment41



Series: Albatross [3]
Category: Unspecified Fandom
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-24
Updated: 2015-06-24
Packaged: 2018-04-06 00:03:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4200183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apartment41/pseuds/Apartment41
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dr. Emily Young has returned from Aesop, a desolate planet almost wiped clean by a nuclear accident.</p><p>She tells everyone nothing happened.  She smiles at them, her eyes twinkling, her cheeks rosy.</p><p>But it's a lie.</p><p>The doctor has seen terrible things.  She can smell the burning flesh of her dying patients.  Their screams haunt her in the night.  She's bleeding deep inside, and no one can see, except for Allison.</p><p>Allison the mercenary.  Allison the pirate.  Allison the slaver.</p><p>Allison, the only woman who knows what's happening to Dr. Emily Young.  And is almost powerless to save her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Emily looked down at her hands. Her whole body shook. Her lip quivered, her cheeks flushed, and her stomach knotted.

She could see where the boy’s flesh had sloughed off; where it had slipped off his body like wet paper. Even through her thick gloves, she could feel the wetness of his blood, feel it ooze over her body as she tried desperately to help the boy. But every time she touched him, no matter how gentle, he would scream, and kick, and beg for death. All the while, flakes of nuclear ash would fall light on his body, to be washed away by toxic rain.

And Emily watched all of it. Trembling.

She could still hear him. She could still see him.

The blackened, burnt skin. The pink muscle. The white bones.

And his eyes. Wide open, frantically searching. He knew he was dying. In his mind, he was already dead. His body just hadn’t gotten the message yet.

Emily stared at her hands, trembling. Tears welled at her eyes, her throat tightened, and a small whimper tried to fight its way out of her mouth. She couldn’t do it.

She wanted to cry, but down the hall was Allison, and on the other side of the ship was Alyx, and Kunai, and Grim.

They would judge her, think she was weak. You’re a doctor, they’d say. Deal with it. She could feel them talking about her behind her back. Questioning her, insulting her, destroying her.

She looked down at her hands, and wept silent tears.

 

“Emily,” Alyx said.

Emily looked up from her breakfast. Alyx was staring at her, her eyes narrowed in suspicion, but her voice carrying the worried notes of a Captain.

Emily smiled broadly, and fixed Alyx with her most winning gaze.

“Morning!” She said cheerfully.

Alyx raised an eyebrow.

“Well?” she said slowly.

Emily froze. She’d been asked a question. She hadn’t heard it. She’d been in her lab all night, working. She’d only come to breakfast because she needed calories.

She’d almost forgotten the rest of the crew would be there.

“I asked you, ‘how are we doing on medical supplies?’” Alyx said.

Emily beamed. “Just fine!”

“You took half our stock down to Aesop with you.”

Emily’s breath caught in her throat. Aesop: _Greek story teller. Fabulist. Name attributed to planet on Union side of Armistice Line. Developed. Non-hostile. Recent victim of cata…_ She remembered the boy. _Cata…_ She remembered his screams.

Emily grinned at Alyx.

“The Navy and emergency relief team had everything I needed!”

Alyx stared at Emily for a moment longer before returning to her breakfast.

“Good to hear,” she said.

Emily sighed internally, and picked up her fork. Grim had prepared a breakfast of eggs and sausage. It was delicious.

As she ate, Emily’s eyes twitched towards Alison, who sat next to her. The cyborg wasn’t eating, as usual. She treated meals like they were beneath her. She would sit next to Emily and sneer at everyone except the doctor, like eating was an offense. A base devotion. Sinful.

But now Allison sat next to Emily with a serene expression, a small book in her hands, her eyes quickly scanning the words, before she turned the pages with computer controlled precision.

Emily began to stare at the book. The thin paper pages, the slight yellowing that had come with age, and the thread binding. Physical books were so rare nowadays. It was a wonder this one had survived.

But soon her eyes drifted from the book, to Allison.

Emily bit her lip. The red head was gorgeous.

There was no disputing this. She’d seen the cyborg naked before. They’d tangled several times. Emily remembered how her light brown hands had explored every square centimeter of Allison’s pale white body, their hips moving in concert, Allison’s steel fingers driving slowly yet firmly deep inside Emily. It was magnificent.

Emily admired those fingers now. Titanium steel wrapped in thin chords of mechanical pseudo-muscle, and covered in an artificial skin made of Hardex. Allison’s narrow wrists led to thick muscles, shapely biceps, and a pair of irresistible shoulders.

Emily shuddered. Her fork, poised over her eggs, wobbled slightly as a spasm shot its way from her nether to her brain. Allison’s shoulders, she thought. Emily had a thing for shoulders. It was a hard muscle to sculpt, but Allison, her body designed in a laboratory by lonely men whose only escape was their work, had perfectly defined shoulders that sloped downward in an almost artistic arc.

Emily wanted to bite them. It wouldn’t cause Allison any pain. Far from it. Allison moaned in ecstasy every time Emily got rough. There was no chance the small doctor would hurt the massive cyborg. Emily could do as she liked. Allison was a piece of steel, submissive, a masturbatory aid that could fuck Emily right back.

Emily scanned Allison up and down, as slowly as she dared. She noted the curve of her breasts; massive, firm, and self-supporting.

Allison didn’t need to wear a bra; her breasts would never sag or age. But there, under her black tank top was the perfect outline of a sports bra. And underneath that, were two pink nipples that could be made hard with a single thought. Emily knew this for a fact as well. Allison had forgotten to turn them on once. She’d smiled when Emily reminded her, and smiled wider still when Emily had put one in her mouth.

Emily’s legs tightened again. Her tongue pressed against the back of her teeth, and made tight swirling patterns.

Her graze drifted up to Allison’s jaw, a slice of steel so sharp it could cut diamonds.

And Allison’s eyes. Jade daggers that shone bright under a mop of dark red hair that extended past her shoulder blades. It was her eyes that most held Emily’s attention now. Not Allison’s lips, although those were magnificent. Slender and plump, Emily could taste them inside her mouth. It was a credit to the engineers who built Allison’s body that the woman’s lips tasted so real. They were always moist, and firm, yet giving… with the proper effort.

A familiar warmth invaded Emily’s body.

Allison had finally noticed the attention Emily had been giving her.

“What?” She asked in a clipped tone.

Emily returned to her fork. She scooped up a fresh load of eggs and sausage, and looked at Allison with an unconcerned look before depositing the breakfast in her mouth.

“Nothing.”

Allison stared at Emily for only a moment longer before returning to her book.

Emily shoveled food into her mouth.

The rest of the crew laughed, and joked, and concerned themselves with the daily matters of Spacers. Emily finished her meal quickly, and returned to her lab. Allison walked smoothly behind her, but headed for her room; the armory.

Emily watched Allison step inside. She noted the swishing of her hips, the bouncing of her ass. She remembered how last time they’d tangled, she’d bitten down on Allison’s right cheek so hard she’d left a mark. Emily bit her own lip now and stepped into her lab.

There was work to be done.


	2. Chapter 2

Emily couldn’t sleep that night. She tossed and turned in her bed. Sweat beaded at her forehead. Her grip tightened on her bed sheets.

Her mind carried her back. Back to before Aesop.

 

“Captain, can I talk to you for a moment?” Emily had asked.

Alyx smiled politely.

“Sure,” she’d said.

With a wave of her hand, Alyx beckoned Emily into the cabin. It was no larger than Emily’s own. Five by five by five meters of gunmetal grey walls, soft lighting, and the ever-present scent of copper, a result of the air processors.

But hanging just underneath that, was the unmistakable smell of sex.

Emily could smell it plain as day. As she walked inside the cabin and sat down on Alyx’s small couch, she scanned the room for clues. Alyx’s hair was still tangled, a rare sight on a workday. The bed wasn’t made, and there were two pillows side by side, both of them with the clear indentations of someone’s head. Emily cocked an eyebrow. Grim had paid a visit last night.

Emily smiled coyly. She hadn’t heard anything. The steel walls between the cabins were well insulated, to better trap heat, and thus reduce the amount of energy needed to keep the ship warm.

They also soundproofed the cabins very nicely.

Emily sometimes wondered what heterosexual intercourse was like. No need for artificial parts, but from what she’d heard, men seldom had their partner’s best interests at heart. They’d skip the foreplay and move straight on to the main event, finish quickly, and fall asleep.

The doctor smiled, wondering if Grim was different. He was a giant of a man, no doubt he was well proportioned. And as a handsome Spacer who traveled regularly from port to port, likely well experienced.

More importantly, he clearly loved Alyx, even if she didn’t reciprocate. Emily suspected he spent as much time on his knees as Alyx spent on hers.

_I wonder what a beard feels like down there…_

Emily bit the inside of her lip and scanned Alyx up and down. She was a gorgeous woman. Lithe muscles, shapely legs, a very well proportioned chest, and an entrancing face. It was sharp, with two crystal clear blue eyes, a pointed chin, and high, prominent cheekbones. It could go from commanding to sensual with the twitch of an eyebrow. Her hair was pulled back into a loose, undisciplined bun that just made Emily think sex.

The doctor ground her legs together. There were some nights in her lab that seemed to drag on forever. Sometimes she’d grow bored, and if Allison wasn’t on the menu, Emily’s fingers would endeavor to liven things up. Alyx was a frequent entrant into her mind’s eye on those nights.

Alyx minimized the holographic displays she’d been working on and turned to Emily, who beamed back at her with wide, happy eyes, and a bright smile.

“What’s on your mind?” Alyx asked.

“There’s been a nuclear accident on Aesop. I’d like to - ” Alyx silenced Emily with a wave of her hand and a disgruntled look.

“I know what you’d like to do,” she said curtly. “I can’t let you.”

Emily’s smile dropped. She cocked an eyebrow.

“Why not?” She asked with deadly seriousness.

“Because I’m responsible for your safety,” Alyx answered. She waved her hand through the air, and called up a new holographic display. With a flick of her wrist, a news program appeared, a bulletin shining large and prominent at the top.

DISASTER ON AESOP: NUCLEAR SABOTAGE LEAVES THOUSANDS DEAD, THOUSANDS MORE IN CRITICAL CONDITION

There were pictures too. Of the fusion reactor that had been destroyed. The charred corpses. Their scorched faces, backs, arms, legs. And the living. Screaming mobs that dug through rubble looking for their loved ones, or sat back, their eyes staring a thousand yards into space.

Emily shivered.

Alyx closed the display and fixed Emily with a critical glare.

“That planet is a powder keg. Aesop is two weeks away from any substantial relief. They’re going to be starving soon. Which means riots. You know just as well as me that Spacers are the first ones to be killed,” she said ominously.

Emily leaned forward. “That’s a lie.”

“I’ve seen it happen, Emily. More than once. So have you,” Alyx spat. She turned back to her work, dismissing Emily. “You’re not going.”

Emily stood. She walked over to Alyx’s desk, and stopped, her shoulder square, her feet planted, her jaw set.

“Yes I am,” she growled.

Alyx closed her displays again and turned in her seat. She glared at Emily, arms crossed, one eyebrow climbing high in suspicion.

“Really?”

Emily shrugged. “I don’t have a choice.”

Alyx threw her head back and gave a cutting laugh. Emily winced.

The Captain stood, and came chest to chest with Emily. She smirked.

“You’re right, the choice has been made for you, you’re staying here.”

“No,” Emily said. She looked up at Alyx, who glared down at her. “I swore an oath,” Emily spat. She glanced at the deck. “Ma’am.”

Emily looked back at Alyx.

“I’ve already asked the Okinawa. I’ll be riding down with the Navy’s relief effort. And I’ll have Marines protecting me.”

Alyx’s smirk grew wider. “Marines who are barely allowed to protect themselves. What are they going to do if a mob swarms the hospital? Use harsh language?”

Emily shrugged.

“They’ll figure something out,” she said. She glanced at the deck again, and turned on her heels, heading for the door. “I’m going.”

She opened the cabin door, only to have it slam shut in her face. Startled she turned to see Alyx, her hand hovering over a display, the words LOCK DOOR shining in bright green.

Emily gritted her teeth and glared dangerously at Alyx, who stared resolutely back.

“You can’t stop me, Captain,” Emily growled.

The two stared at one another for an eternity. Alyx probing Emily up and down, scanning the diminutive woman for signs of weakness: the twitch of an eye, shallow breathing, a shuffling foot. Emily showed none of these. She was too busy admiring Alyx’s bare shoulders and wondering if the Captain was wearing a bra.

Finally satisfied, Alyx smiled lightly. She tapped the display again, and Emily heard the door unlock behind her. Alyx walked towards Emily, shaking her head.

“You know, you’re the only person on board who can safely tell me that.” She stopped just before Emily. The two stared at one another. Alyx frowned.

“Do you want Allison to come too?” She asked.

“No,” Emily said quickly. She shrugged and glanced at the deck. “She doesn’t need to see this.”

“It wouldn’t bother her,” Alyx said.

“I know.”


	3. Chapter 3

Emily was out of bed now, and digging through the refrigerator.

Finally her hand wrapped around what she was looking for. She pulled it out of the cabinet, removed the stopper, and upended the glass bottle. The finest whiskey money could buy poured down her throat. It burned the whole way.

After three massive gulps, Emily slammed the bottle back on the table and gasped. Her chest burned, her throat burned, her mouth burned. Her stomach wound itself into knots, screaming at her in pain. Emily closed her eyes and moaned. She stumbled over to the sink, retching.

She held her head over the drain, waiting to vomit. But slowly, things began to shift. She could feel the alcohol working its way through her system. A sweet relief began to wash over her, a euphoric delight that felt better than sex. Emily laughed. Her memory faded, and her mind became silent.

She felt good.

She took another swig, this time welcoming the burning. She had to give Alyx credit. The woman knew her whiskey.

Emily replaced the stopper and walked towards the ladder, stumbling slightly. She struggled to climb, with one hand on the rungs, the other clutched tightly around the bottle.

 

“This fuckin’ _sucks_!” A Marine shouted over the roar of the dropship’s engines. It was a small craft. Nineteen Marines and Emily were stuffed inside, sitting in massive seats built to hold powered exo-skeletons. Emily felt small in her harness, which she’d had to pull extra tight to keep herself anchored.

“We’re gonna catch cancer down there!” The Marine shouted.

“The radiation’s gone! And you can’t fuckin’ _catch_ cancer, idiot, it’s not a fuckin’ cold!” Another called.

“But why do we have to go? All the doctors are Navy!”

“Didn’t you fuckin’ pay attention during the briefing? We’re there to cover the Navy and civilian docs, distribute supplies, and aid in the relief effort!”

“How’re we gonna ‘cover,’ huh? We’re not allowed to touch the civilians! What the fuck are we supposed to do if they riot?” The first Marine shouted.

“Your jobs, that’s what!” A voice of authority shouted. Emily looked at this Marine. He had dark skin, and muscles that bulged under his camouflage blouse. Three chevrons weighed heavily on his neck.

“So can we hit them, Sergeant?” A Marine called in a deferential tone.

“No!” The Sergeant answered.

“What about the stun batons?”

“No!”

“Gas grenades?”

“No!”

“So what are we supposed to do if they come at us swinging?”

“Duck!”

The Marines’ laughter was cut short when the dropship slammed into Aesop’s atmosphere, bucking the ship, and throwing everyone into their harnesses. Emily replaced her jostled glasses and wrapped a hand tightly around her medical bag.

The Marine next to Emily shook her head, a thin smile at her lips.

“This fuckin’ _sucks_ ,” she whispered.

 

The dropship’s pilots were trained for combat. They steered the little craft through the atmosphere at top speed, and headed for the planet’s surface with the engines firewalled. Just before they touched down, the pilots pulled back on their sticks, and coaxed the engines to full blast. The dropship landed in the middle of Aesop City, the only inhabited area on the planet, in a cloud of dust and debris.

The ramp at the back of the ship lowered quickly, and daylight poured through. Emily and the Marines unbuckled their harnesses, stood, and shouldered their gear bags.

“Let’s go, Marines! We’ve got a job to do!” The Sergeant shouted.

All twenty of them thundered down the ramp, and onto Aesop. Once the last Marine had cleared the dropship, the ramp was raised, the pilots opened the throttle, and  the dropship climbed into the sky, heading back to the Okinawa, for another load of personnel and supplies.

Emily looked around her, a hungry grin on her face.

All around her was destruction. Buildings torched by fire, blackened rebar sticking out like ribs on a carcass. Dust hung in the air, obscuring the sun. It coated everything. The ground, the buildings, the people

The mobs of people.

There were thousands of them, their faces pressed against the chain link fence surrounding the airfield the Marines had just landed on. They shook the fence, screaming for food, for water, for a ride off the planet.

They were covered in dust and ash. Some of their faces were scarred red from the flash of the nuclear detonation, others covered in seeping wounds and boils. Others still had charred scalps and face from where their hair had burnt off in the heat.

Something deep inside Emily came alive. This was why she entered medical school. This is why she became a doctor. This is why I’m here, she told herself.  
“Doctor Young!” A man called. “Doctor Young!”

Emily turned and looked for whoever had been calling her name. A man in green scrubs, and lab coat cinched tight stood apart from where the Marines were stacking supplies, and assembling to move out.

Emily threw her gear bag over her shoulder and ran towards the man.

“Here!” She shouted to the man. When she got close, she slowed down, and scanned the man.

He was taller than Emily by a head, and significantly more muscled. Not an uncommon trait for Colonists. A light dusting of dust and ash caked his scrubs, and infiltrated his hair, making him look prematurely grey. He looked tired, like he’d been fighting a war, and wanted very desperately to go home.

“You’re Benjamin?” Emily asked.

“Yes, ma’am!” Benjamin called. He thrust his hand to Emily, who shook it vigorously. “Thank the Maker you’re here.”

He began leading her away from the assembly area and towards a vehicle depot. The Marines had already deposited some of their utility vehicles, and were busily preparing them for a push into the city. Emily looked at some of the Marines’ faces. Each one was an emotionless mask: they showed no fear.

But a nervous glance towards the mob, their efforts to keep the dust off their uniforms with a quick swipe of their hands, and the wary looks they gave a dropship each time it departed betrayed their true feelings. But they did as they were told, with calm determination, and an unmistakable sense of pride. Emily had to give them credit. They were professionals.

Benjamin led Emily to his own car, a massive truck with thick tires and steel plating. It was a common emergency vehicle favored by Colonists for its reliability and off road capability.

Emily threw her gear bag into the back, and climbed into the passenger seat. Benjamin sat behind the wheel, turned on the engine, and slowly guided the car out of the assembly area. They passed a mix of Aesop’s own Civil Defense and Marine guards when they went through the gate, and entered the mob.

“What’s the situation?” Emily asked sharply.

Benjamin drove slowly to avoid running anyone over. Thankfully, the mob parted to make way for the emergency vehicle.

“Bad. Two thousand people were killed in the initial blast or shortly after. Another three thousand are in critical condition. The entire colony is barely hanging on by its fingernails,” he said.

Emily glanced at the man. His tone was even and professional, but she could see beads of sweat form at his temple, and his hands were wrapped around the steering wheel in a death grip.

“What happened to the radiation ejected by the reactor?” Emily asked.

Benjamin smiled in relief.

“Neutralized. We deployed nano-machine scrubbers right after the explosion. The area is radiation free, but I expect there will be lingering effects for some time.”

Emily nodded solemnly. “Agreed.”

Benjamin finally broke through the worst of the mob and wheeled the car onto the main drag. He opened the throttle and headed as far away from the assembly area as possible.

“Where to?” He asked.

“Where are your most critical patients being held?”

“Not far,” Benjamin pressed harder on the accelerator, and headed deeper into the city. Emily could see columns of smoke, pillars of ash, and bodies. They were piled on the side of the road. Some had fallen in the initial blast. Others had been stacked by Aesop citizens trying to clear the road.

Emily stared at each one. _This is why I’m here._


	4. Chapter 4

Emily didn’t remember ascending the ladder into the cargo bay, didn’t remember floating through the bay to the ship’s port side, and didn’t remember descending the ladder.

She arrived at the door to her lab, the whiskey bottle almost empty now. Her mind was a swirling fog. Her knees arced inward, and she had to use her free hand to steady herself. A thin smile tugged at her lips.

She felt happy. Aesop was slowly draining out of her, with every drop of whiskey that she took in.

Emily leaned up against the lab door and tried to focus on the keypad that would let her inside. All she had to do was enter a six digit code, and she would be let in.

She planned to spend the rest of the night working. There were cell cultures to examine, and reports to write.

She smiled. She loved being a doctor.

Emily threw a hand against the keypad and pressed out a series of buttons. The indicator light flashed red, and the word DENIED appeared on the tiny screen above the keypad.

Emily frowned and tried again.

DENIED

She grew frustrated and took another pull from the whiskey bottle.

DENIED

The screen said. Emily stared at the keypad.

DENIED

The screen said. Tears welled at her eyes.

DENIED

Panic began to course through her veins.

DENIED – NO FURTHER ATTEMPTS GRANTED – CONSULT MANUAL

Emily’s knees buckled. She slid to the floor, the whiskey bottle clanking when it hit the steel deck. She lifted the bottle to her lips, titled it to the ceiling, and drained what was left in one gulp.

Slowly, she began to cry.

_Why won’t the door open? I can’t work. I need to work!_

She thought of her research. The cell cultures. The reports. Suddenly, she couldn’t remember why they were important. Or how to do them.

She pulled her knees to her chest, and began to weep. Hot tears streamed down her face, fogging her glasses, and dripping onto her lab coat. She grabbed her bushy brown hair and squeezed, enjoying the pain. She cried louder, moaning into her lap.

She wasn’t sure how much time passed, but she eventually looked up, and as if for the first time, noticed the door to the armory.

 _Allison’s in there_ , she thought.

A new sensation washed over her now. A deep lusting like she’d never known. She remembered the touch of Allison’s body against hers. The warm, smooth skin, the undulation of their hips moving as one, the stimulation, the sweat, the smell.

She thought of Allison’s lips, their taste, the light pressure, and the sucking sensation when Allison pulled them inside her mouth, and ran her tongue up and down the moist flesh.

And she thought of Allison’s other lips. They smelled perfect, and tasted wonderful. Allison moaned when Emily paid attention to them. She moaned loud.

Emily wanted to taste them. She wanted to hear Allison moan. She wanted it all right now.

An incredible warmth spread through her body as she stood, and approached the armory door. A familiar wetness began to grow as well, drawing an even greater smile to Emily’s lips.

She banged on the armory door, hard.

When no response came, she banged again. And again, and again.

Finally, the door slid open, and Allison stepped through.


	5. Chapter 5

Emily bit her lip, and nearly moaned in ecstasy there in the hallway.

Allison was in her nightclothes: her usual black tank top, minus the sports bra, and a pair of small lace panties. Her dark red hair was draped over her shoulders, and her jade eyes stared down at Emily with a mix of annoyance and concern.

“Hey,” Emily said with a smile and a small wave.

“Hey,” Allison replied with a cocked eyebrow.

Suddenly she noticed the whiskey bottle still clutched in Emily’s hand. Allison slowly grabbed Emily by the wrist, and plucked the bottle from her grasp. Emily looked at her feet while Allison swirled the bottle around, quickly concluding that it was completely empty.

Allison lowered the bottle and put a hand to her forehead.

“Oh, Emily,” she sighed.

“Can we talk inside?” Emily asked sheepishly.

“You finished it all on your own?”

Emily looked up at Allison, a coy smile at her lips. “Don’t worry about it.”

She took Allison’s hand in her own and walked inside the cabin. “Come on.”

The cabin was an armory only in the technical sense. There were racks of blaster rifles, shotguns, sniper rifles, crates of grenades and nukes. There were holsters and shield belts, knives and stun batons. Far in the back was Allison’s suit of powered armor, a jet-black nightmare of titanium steel and shield projectors. Save for the small slit of a visor, there was nothing to betray that a human stood inside of it. It was death incarnate.

But Allison had decided to make the cabin more than just an armory. She’d long since rejected Alyx’s offer of a cabin on the starboard side of the ship, where the rest of the crew slept. Instead, Allison had decided to make the armory her room.

Near the ceiling was a hammock, stretching from wall to wall. Clothes were scattered everywhere. Jeans were draped over a solitary rocket launcher. Shirts were piled on a quartet of grenades. A loose bra hung over the scope of a sniper rifle. The floor was dominated by laundry, both old and freshly washed.

Emily dragged Allison into the room, her grin growing wider. She shut the door behind her, and walked into the middle of the room, Allison’s hand still clutched tightly in her own. Emily turned on Allison, and put her hands on the cyborg’s shoulders. It was difficult. Allison was more than a head taller than the diminutive doctor.

“Emily,” Allison pleaded.

“We haven’t really seen each other in a while,” Emily whispered into Allison’s ears. She was standing on the tip of her toes, and leaning into Allison, using the cyborg as balance.

Emily pressed her lips to Allison’s temple, and slowly guided herself to Allison’s lips. When the two connected, Emily pressed forward. She wanted to devour Allison, to consume her. She worked frantically, her lips moving with practiced care, and her tongue infiltrating Allison’s mouth with practiced ease.

Allison recoiled.

“Stop it,” she said.

Emily frowned, but could see that Allison was interested. The cyborg’s cheek’s were flush, and she’d bent into Emily’s kiss, just for a moment. Emily was certain of it.

Emily moved her hands from Allison’s shoulder to her waist, and slipped them under the cyborg’s tank top. Her skin felt warm. Emily splayed her fingers wide, and ran them up and down Allison’s back, savoring the warmth.

Slowly, Emily worked her lips down from Allison’s. She kissed Allison’s chin, her neck, her chest, slowly working her lips downwards, while her hands crept up. She moved them to Allison’s stomach, and slowly guided them to her breasts. Emily worked smoothly here.

Allison moaned lightly, prompting Emily to squeeze her breasts even harder. They were splendid; soft, yet firm, and massive. She lifted Allison’s tank top, fully revealing the cyborg’s chest, and gaining Emily’s lips free access. She pressed her lips to Allison’s left nipple, while her hands busied themselves with massaging Allison’s creamy white skin.

Emily’s tongue swirled around Allison’s erect nipple. She sucked lightly at it, eliciting another moan from Allison, who placed a hand on the back of Emily’s head.

“Stop it, Emily,” she begged.

The cyborg was struggling now. She wanted to rip Emily’s clothes off and throw her to the deck, then fuck her senseless on the cold steel plating of the ship. She wanted to taste Emily, plunge her fingers and tongue deep inside her. She never wanted it to stop. The mercenary bit her lip, suppressing darker thoughts.

She thought of chains, ropes, whips, of keeping Emily locked away in the armory day and night. She wanted to enjoy Emily forever. The dark flesh. The shapely ass.

The curve of her breasts. Allison wanted her. All of her.

But something inside the cyborg fought back. Allison looked back at the liquor bottle she’d confiscated. Completely empty; Emily had drained every last drop. The doctor was hurting. Badly.

Allison groaned as Emily dropped to her knees, and pulled down the cyborg’s panties. Allison wanted this.

And Emily could see that. The cyborg’s legs were soaked in lubricant, and her lips were wide open, ready for the taking. Emily smiled, and moved in. She drove her mouth into Allison’s groin, her tongue angling towards the cyborg’s moist, swollen clit. Emily swirled her tongue around it, her eyes shut, her heart pounding. Allison tasted delicious, and was groaning with pleasure. Allison pressed her hand harder on the back of Emily’s head, pushing the doctor in closer, begging her for more.

Emily happily obliged. She kept one hand at Allison’s breast, alternating between massaging the soft flesh and teasing her hard nipples. Emily guided her other hand to Allison’s pulsating groin, and forming two fingers into a spear, thrust herself deep inside Allison.

The cyborg cried out in ecstasy. Suddenly, she took a hold of Emily’s hair with one hand, and her wrist with the other. With one powerful effort, Allison pulled Emily away.

“I said. Stop,” Allison growled.

She was glaring down at Emily now, her tank top still revealing her breasts, and her panties soaking wet on the floor.

“What’s wrong?” Emily asked.

Allison frowned and, still staring at Emily, fixed her clothes. She huffed, and brushed past the doctor.

“Not tonight,” she muttered.

Emily stayed on the floor. She whipped around when Allison walked past, shocked. “Why not?”

Allison opened up a cabinet and pulled out a thick roll of padding. She walked back to Emily, who quickly edged out of the way, and rolled the padding on the floor.

“Because I said so,” Allison growled.

“Please?” Emily pleaded.

“No,” Allison answered. She flicked a switch on the side of the padding, prompting an electric current to shoot through the material, inflating the padding to its full size. Allison grabbed a blanket and two of the pillows from her hammock, and threw them down on what had turned into a bedding.

Emily stood by, her lip quivering.

“Please?” She begged.

Allison glared at her.

“No.”

Allison walked over to Emily and planted her hands on the doctor’s shoulder.

“Allison,” Emily whispered. She looked up at Allison, her eyes swimming in tears. She set her hands on Allison’s waist. “It hurts.”

Allison’s face was a mask, implacable and unmoving.

“I know.”

Allison stripped off Emily’s lab coat, and pulled her clothes off piece by piece, until Emily was standing in nothing but her undershirt and panties.

Emily began to cry openly. Tears streamed down her face. Allison removed the doctor’s glasses and set them aside. She flicked out the lights, and began to guide Emily towards the bed.

“It hurts so much!” Emily choked.

“I know,” Allison repeated.

She pressed down on Emily’s shoulder, guiding the doctor downwards. The two laid down on the bed now. Allison threw the blanket over Emily, who wept into her pillow.

Slowly, Emily wiggled over to Allison, and planted a kiss, wet from her tears, against the cyborg’s lips.

“Please,” Emily whispered.

“No,” Allison said.

Emily moaned and clamped her arms around her head. She could see the boy again. His cracked flesh, his smoking wounds, the pouring blood. It came flooding back to her like a freight train. Worst of all, she could smell it. It was his hair. Singed in the fire, it had melted the flesh on his head, causing it to bubble and pop like a pig over a fire.

“Make it stop!” Emily screamed.

Allison wrapped her arms around Emily, and pulled her in close. The doctor wept into Allison’s chest, her sobs absorbed by Allison’s breasts.

“I’m trying,” Allison said, a note of panic slipping into her voice.

“Please!” Emily shouted.


	6. Chapter 6

Emily bent over her patient, a mask pressed against her face, and a small container in her hand. The young man underneath her was staring resolutely up at the ceiling, his arms held rigidly at his side, and his jaw clamped shut so tight his teeth threatened to shatter.

Emily looked into his eyes, and saw his fear. She smiled behind her mask.

“Alright. Are you ready?” She asked.

The young man nodded his head, and flashed her a thumbs up.

Emily nodded and unscrewed the cap from the container. Inside was a milky blue gel that smelled like blueberries. The gel was a mixture of nano-machines smaller than red blood cells, and the organic nutrients they feasted on while waiting for work. The nano-machines were cancer killers, designed to infiltrate a patients’ blood stream, then hunt down and eliminate all tumors and damaged cells.

Emily glanced at the young man’s chest, quickly assessing the damage. He had radiation burns up and down his body. They ebbed and flowed as horrible marks of black and red. The flesh was already peeling at his abdomen, where his shirt had melted away. Unlike most of the people who’d been facing the blast, he’d been looking down, at a tablet computer. It had saved his eyes from a flash frying that would have left him blind, without the aid of prosthetics.

Emily gently smeared the gel over the young man’s chest, causing him to gasp in pain.

“I’m sorry it hurts. But I don’t have the right tools to administer this properly,” she soothed. She spread the gel out as best she could, before scooping out another finger full.

“It’ll still work, right?” He asked.

Emily smiled behind her mask and spread the gel out. The young man tried to shrink into his cot, away from Emily’s touch.

“Yes. Rest assured of that,” Emily answered.

Emily continued to apply the gel, smearing it over every red welt she could find. She spread it as thin as she could. The gel was expensive, and in exceedingly short supply. Union ships were en route with more medical supplies, but they were still a week away. Far too long for many of these people.

The young man winced when Emily approached a particularly blackened area of his skin.

Emily smiled. “How’s your mother?”

The young man craned his neck so he could look at the woman in the next cot over. She was lying on her stomach, her own coating of gel already smeared across her skin.

“Mom?” The young man called. The woman groaned in acknowledgement.

“You okay?”

She groaned again, at a higher pitch this time. The young man smiled.

Emily finished her work and replaced the containers’ lid.

“All done,” she said to the young man. She stood, and turned to the woman. “You’ve got a very brave boy.”

The woman smiled. “I know.”

“I’ll be back to check on you later, okay?” Emily said.

“Thanks, doc,” the young man said.

Emily smiled, and placed the container in her satchel. She began to walk down the length of cots, making notations on her tablet as she did.

All around her, doctors, Navy Corpsman and surgeons knelt beside patients, treating injuries as best they could. The hangar they were using was packed to capacity with victims. Some had radiation burns from the blast. Others had pulverized bones from falling debris. Others still were blind from the flash, and were simply looking for a safe place to wait.

Emily walked towards the front of the hangar, where the two massive doors had been cracked slightly open, allowing just enough room for people and equipment to walk in and out.

She stepped through the opening and into the “fresh” air. It was a cool day. Enough ash had been kicked into the atmosphere that the temperature had dropped substantially. The clouds were grey, and ash was falling from the sky like snow. Somehow, a smile crept onto Emily’s lips. She glanced back at the hangar. She was doing good work.

Just as she was about to turn back into the hangar and continue her rounds, a roaring tremor reached her ears. Emily turned, and gasped. There on the horizon, one of the skyscrapers that dotted the small colony was beginning to collapse. She could see steel girders buckles, plastic floors gape, and after a few seconds of relative chaos, the entire structure collapsed like an accordion. The top floor collapsed to the one below it, collapsing the one below it, and on and on the process went, until a final tremendous geyser of air shot out the bottom floor, before it took was smashed to oblivion.

A doctor ran to Emily’s side. He arrived out of breath, chest heaving, cheeks flush.

“What was that?” He asked Emily.

She simply stared off at where the building had been, and the billowing cloud of dust that had taken its place. Her eyes narrowed in determination, and electricity hummed through her veins.

“Oh my god,” the doctor whispered to himself.

Emily turned on her heel and sprinted back inside the hangar. Doctors and Corpsman were looking frantically around, slowly realizing that a new disaster had struck.

Emily ignored them all and raced towards the small tent at the hangar’s rear where she’d stowed her gear bag.

She quickly tore the bag open, did a quick gear check, shouldered the bag, and ran back outside. Marines and Navy Corpsman were already marshaling for deployment. They ran gear checks, assigned teams, and distributed information.

Two massive utility vehicles sped around the hangar, and stopped in front of the assembled personnel.

“Any time, people!” A Sergeant called from the forward vehicles driver seat. The Marines and Corpsman piled into the back of the vehicles, squeezing in tight to allow as many supplies on board as possible.

“Make room!” Emily shouted as she angled herself on board. A Marine scooted down the small bench, giving her just enough room to sit down, but forcing her to dangle a leg out the back.

A Navy Lieutenant walked past, the gold bar at his neck almost glowing. He spotted Emily, and wheeled on the tiny doctor, a vein in his neck bulging in anger.

“Ma’am, we’re moving only military personnel! You need to get out!” He shouted in a guttural snarl.

Emily cocked an eyebrow in disgust. She reached a hand to the right sleeve of her lab coat, and pulled up on a Velcro tab, revealing the patch underneath.

It was a blue shield, and on its face was a winged staff, with two serpents wrapping around it in stark white. A Corpsman next to Emily whistled, and the Lieutenant staggered back.

“Do you recognize the symbol, Lieutenant?” Emily whispered. “Do you know where I come from?”

The Corpsman smiled and looked at the Lieutenant.

“Respectfully, sir, I’d let her go,” he said in a low voice.

The Lieutenant nodded at Emily. “Good luck.”


	7. Chapter 7

The Quick Response Team sped towards the collapsed building at full tilt. Grey ash drifted through the air and clung to Emily’s lab coat. The temperature was dropping. She cinched the jacket tighter, and ducked her chin into the collar. Her hands began to cramp, so she flexed them back and forth. They creaked with every push and pull.

“Standby!” The driver shouted.

The vehicle crested a low hill, and descended onto the road below. Emily gasped at what she saw.

Where the building had stood, nothing remained, save for a pile of debris, inky grey dust, and acrid black smoke. There were fires. Lots of them. They’d sprung up from gas leaks that burst out of the ground, and were belching torrents of flame high into the sky.

As the response team drove further into this nightmare, deeper and deeper into the clouds of dust, smoke and ash, the sunlight slowly dwindled away, wrapping them all in darkness and cold.

Emily shivered in her coat. The warmth drained from her body, and was replaced by a new sensation she hadn’t known in a long time.

“Headlamps!” A Marine shouted over the whipping wind and roaring flames.

Hands dove into gear bags, and extracted headlamps and flashlights. Emily pulled out her own headlamp and cinched it tight. She flicked a switch, and a piercing beam of light cut through the darkness. She turned in her seat, and panned the beam around her.

She screamed.

The military vehicles came to a halt, and the response team leapt out.

Emily stumbled through the darkness, guided only by the cutting light of her headlamp. There were people all around her. Their eyes stared off into the distance, their bodies covered in dust. They couldn’t see the fires that were all around them, didn’t hear the shouting voices, couldn’t feel their burns and bleeding wounds.

They were the walking dead.

“Corpsman!” A Marine shouted. “Hey, we need a Corpsman over here!”

Emily panned her beam around towards the speaker, only to gasp. She could see the Marine carrying someone in his arms, a house engulfed in flames behind him.

Emily ran closer.

“I’m a doctor! What’s the situation?” She called to the Marine.

She angled the beam toward the person in his arms, and almost vomited. A creeping realization shot its way into her stomach. She’d seen death. She’d seen horror.

She’d been trained by the finest medical minds in the galaxy, to spread the Union’s goodwill to every corner of human space.

But this… this was beyond horror.

It was a boy, barely more than thirteen years old. His eyes were shut, and his skin was black as charcoal. What was left of his pink flesh had swollen into boils and sores, second degree burns that festered in a grotesque caricature of the human form. There were patches of flesh that had been burned away so deep that Emily could see straight down to his bone, a crystal clear white that flashed brightly in the tight beam of her headlamp.

And the boy was still alive.

 _He was screaming!_ In a language Emily couldn’t understand, he was screaming in pain, in an agony so deep that it wormed its way deep inside Emily that it ruptured her very core. Her inner strength, supported by a thousand living patients and a thousand dead ones began to crack. It was his screaming that shattered her. And the screaming that she would remember above the smell of his burning flesh, scorched hair, the taste of the ash, the touch of his incinerated flesh, and the inhuman sight that was now burning itself into her retinas.

Emily gasped, and called up her training. Steeling herself for the job to come.

“Set him down! And call for evac!” She ordered to the Marine.

The Marine, not much older than the boy himself, nodded dutifully. He’d seen terrible things as well. And likely inflicted them, too.

“Aye aye, ma’am!” He answered in a professional tone.

Emily reached into her gear bag and unfurled a piece of military grade sheeting. In a pinch, it could serve as poncho, ground cloth, tent, barrier, and now, a safe place to examine a patient.

The Marine set the boy down on the cloth, gave one final look at Emily, and ran off to find his Sergeant. Leaving Emily to her grizzly task.

She watched the Marine run off into the inky blackness, a sense of longing trailing after him. She panned her headlight around. She could see fire, injured victims staggering through the road in a daze of pain and shock, and the cutting light of Marines and Corpsman as they swept the area for dead and wounded. Emily was surrounded by people.

But she was alone.

Emily bent low over the boy, remembering her First Responder Training. Lectures long since forgotten began to formulate in her mind. She narrowed her focus, and began to breathe easy.

 _It’s just like a simulation_ , she thought. _This is no different._

The nagging sensation in the back of her mind that this crisis was very different from a simulation was ignored.

“Hi!” She said cheerfully. The boy continued to scream. “I’m Doctor Emily Young, I’m here to help!”

The boy kept screaming. Emily shuddered.

In a split second, she began a triage process. The boy had third degree burns. That mean a rapid application of bio-gel to stop infection, an insertion of fluids to balance what was lost during his immolation, and once his situation had stabilized, an injection of nanites to aid in the recovery of any damaged internal organs and flesh.

That’s what her training said. But a louder voice, fed by the fires, the ash, and the shambling corpses around her called out in a louder voice.

 _Stop the screaming!_ Her mind shouted. Her training wanted to beat the voice back. She could stop the screaming. Painkillers would do the job nicely. But painkillers could stop his heart, reduce his responsiveness, maybe jeopardize later treatment. But something deeper fought back.

_Make it stop! Her mind screamed. MAKE IT STOP!_

Emily reached into her bag and pulled out a syringe filled with M-3, the most potent painkiller she had, when the boy grabbed Emily’s arm in a vice grip. Emily shrieked in panic. She could feel the boy’s blood oozing through the fabric of her lab coat, and rolling down her arm.

She took a firm grip of the boy’s arm, feeling every scar and burn, even through her thick gloves. She could smell him too. Part of her mind drifted off to the dinner she’d had the night before she’d left the Albatross. Grim had made chicken with rice. He’d prepared the meat perfectly; sautéing it in the perfect blend of oils and spices.

Her mind snapped back to the boy’s iron grip on her with the energy of an atomic bomb.

She pushed the boy’s arm away.

Only to have his charred, burnt skin slough off in her hand.

 

Allison felt Emily shiver and convulse in her arms. The cyborg clung tighter, and begged Emily nightmare’s to stop.  
“Please, Emily,” she whispered into the doctor’s ear. _“Please stop.”_


	8. Chapter 8

Knuckles rapped against the armory door, sending a loud bang knocking against the metal walls.

Allison’s eyes snapped open, her mechanical pupils focusing in an instant. The knuckles rapped again, eliciting a groan from Allison. The cyborg opened her eyes, and came face to face with Emily.

The doctor was sleeping softly, a light smile on her face. Allison stared at her for a moment. She could see the light freckles on her cheeks, the dimples left by her glasses, and the curve of her lips.

Allison smiled. She gently removed her arm from under Emily’s head, careful not to wake her, and crept towards the door. She pressed the keypad, and scowled when the door slid open.

Alyx was leaning up against the opposite wall, hands in her jacket pockets, her hair pulled back into a loose bun, and a scowl on her face. Allison absorbed all of this before focusing on the blaster clipped to Alyx’s thigh. A massive Collins-Colonial, painted jet black with gold filigree etched tastefully into the side. It was a powerful weapon that Alyx knew how to use well.

Allison had seen her do it.

Alyx looked at the cyborg with disdain.

“I couldn’t find my whiskey this morning,” she said.

Allison cocked an eyebrow and smirked. “Mmh… 10AM. How’s the headache?”

Alyx smiled dangerously and pushed off the wall. She glared at Allison before looking at the armory door.

“Did you two tangle?” She asked slowly.

Allison stared at her for a moment, her head lolling to one side.

“How big of a bitch do you think I am?” Allison spat.

Alyx smiled. “I don’t think I can describe what you are.”

Allison smiled and crossed her arms. Alyx smiled back.

“She gonna stay with you all day?”

Allison shrugged. “She’ll find her way to the lab.”

“Good,” Alyx muttered. She shrugged lightly and glanced down the hall conspiratorially. “Jack and Kunai are going to be doing their math homework later. They’ll need help.”

Allison cocked an eyebrow in understanding. “Fine.” She briefly scratched her chin. “Grim’s making dinner, isn’t he? See if he needs another set of hands.”

Alyx nodded.

“I was thinking of wine tonight.”

Allison remained silent for a moment. “How much?”

“One glass per person?” Alyx asked with a slight tilt of her head.

“Sure,” Allison said with a shrug.

“Good.” Alyx turned on her heal and began walking towards the ladder, her blaster banging softly against her thigh. Just as she was about to mount the ladder, she turned to Allison.

“She’s lucky to have you,” she said.

Allison stared at Alyx for a moment before keying the armory door, and stepping inside. Alyx grabbed onto the ladder and climbed.

Both women smiled when they were out of the other’s sight.

 

Emily awoke several hours later, well past breakfast. Kunai had saved her a plate, and brought it down once Allison had called on the ship’s intercom. Emily ate in silence, smiling at Allison occasionally. The cyborg smiled back, working diligently on her suit of armor.

The doctor left the armory shortly after eating, showered, and returned to her lab. She popped two painkillers, drank a liter of water, and continued her work diligently, pausing only to attend lunch with the rest of the crew.

Grim had prepared pots full of baked beans, rice, and chicken, one of his personal favorite meals. Emily consumed three servings with energy, while Allison sat next to her, a light smile at her lips. While the rest of the crew engaged in animated conversation, Emily ate in absolute silence. Nobody disturbed her, least of all the Captain, who watched the doctor like a hawk.

She and Allison exchanged glances every few minutes. Ones of hatred, loathing, and a deep mutual respect.

Emily lingered after lunch to help Grim with the dishes. Jack and Kunai, after a stern prompting from the Captain, returned to the kitchen with their math homework.

Jack focused on his stellar charts and angular theories, while Kunai struggled with calculus. She’d occasionally glance at Jack’s work, before growing terrified of the complicated trajectories and coordinate data it showed, and returning to her own work.

Once she was done with the dishes, Emily shifted between Jack and Kunai, much to the teenagers frustration. Neither one of them enjoyed math. Emily’s constant upbeat attitude and excitement for number crunching was exhausting at best and annoying at worst.

But they endured Emily’s smile and outlook because they cared for her. And because the Captain had warned them both, and Jack especially, that any snide remarks, negative attitudes or dismissive behaviors would be met with cold fury.

All the while, Allison had sat in the lounge, pouring over her book, one eye watching Emily as she sat between Jack and Kunai. A light smile occasionally crept onto her lips. Part of her was happy. Happy for the doctor.

Dinner came shortly thereafter. Grim was determined to make the finest stir fry possible, and Emily was determined to help. She followed Grim’s instructions to the letter, and to her credit, produced a fine product.

Alyx dispensed with the wine, careful to give it only to the adult members of the crew, much to Jack and Kunai’s frustration, and only deliver one glass per person.

Even Allison partook. The touch of alcohol allowed only for laughter and fun, but below Emily’s sparkling eyes and broad grin, Allison could see pain.

Allison set her glass down half way through the meal and didn’t pick it up again.


	9. Chapter 9

“You cleaned,” Emily said.

Allison looked up at her, a small smile creeping onto her face. Emily stood in the doorway, wearing her lab coat, a smile at her lips. Allison smirked.

She’d cleaned the room shortly after dinner, folding and organizing her laundry. The room felt twice as large now, and more like the armory it was meant to be, rather than her personal room.

Now she labored over her favorite blaster rifle, the weapon disassembled in front of her, a bottle of carbon cleaner in one hand, and a small rag in the other.

“Yeah,” Allison said before looking back at the rifle. “How are you feeling?”

Emily walked inside, shrugging slightly.

“Better.” She stepped behind Allison, and draped her arms over the cyborg’s neck. Allison stopped her work, and blushed when Emily planted a tender kiss on her cheek.

“Good,” Allison whispered.

Emily squeezed the cyborg tight, arched her back, and thrust her hips into the air. She smiled coyly and spoke directly into Allison’s ear.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “For last night.”

Allison shrugged.

“No problem.” Allison reassembled the rifle, set it aside, and cleared her workbench, Emily still clinging to her shoulders.

“And… I’m sorry,” Emily said.

Allison swiveled around in her chair, coming face to face with Emily. She stared into the doctor’s eyes. They were nailed to the deck, and slowly beginning to water.

Allison gently grabbed Emily’s chin, and lifted it until she could look directly into the doctor’s eyes.

“For what?” Allison asked.

Emily shrugged again. “…For being such a mess.”

Allison smiled.

“It’s alright,” she whispered. Allison glanced towards the wall, a shameful thought creeping into her mind. “Do you want to talk about Aesop?”

Emily sniffled.

“Not yet.” She shrugged. “Someday.”

Allison squeezed tighter on Emily’s chin, prompting her to look deep into Allison’s eyes. The two women stared at each other, a quiet exchange of emotion occurring in less than a heart beat.

The scarred doctor, sworn to do no harm, and haunted by the patients she’d lost. The tortured mercenary, taught to kill, who couldn’t stop remembering the lives she'd taken.

Allison’s lip trembled.

“I’ll be here. When you’re ready.”

She closed her eyes, and leaned in towards Emily. Their lips met, and Allison’s heart flew. She tilted her head to the side, the kiss quickly growing from a soft peck to something more heated. She opened her mouth wide, her tongue fighting for control, wildly exploring every corner of Emily’s delicious mouth. She breathed hot, moist air, and felt like she could taste the doctor’s very soul.

Emily reached a hand behind Allison’s head, and pulled the cyborg in close. The two savored each other. The taste, the wet, warm touch, the sucking sound as their mouths angled for purchase, fighting for a heightened ecstasy.

Finally, Emily pulled away, leaving Allison gasping for more. The cyborg stared, almost angry that the embrace had ended.

Emily stepped away from Allison, a conspiratorial look on her face. She grinned devilishly, and guided a hand to her lab coats zipper.

“And…” She said slowly, her hand taking hold of the zipper. “I… I don’t want you to think I’m only interested when I’m… hurting.” She pulled the zipper down, revealing dark skin underneath. Allison’s eyes widened in anticipation.

“And I don’t think saying ‘thank you’ is enough.” The zipper had finally reached its terminus, and Emily slipped out of the lab coat. It fell to the floor in a heap, revealing Emily in her full glory.

Allison gasped. She was wonderful.

Emily’s frame was narrow and fragile, with tightly wound chords of super defined muscle that rippled up and down her soft skin. Her breasts were small, but perfectly shaped. Her hips were wide, and her ass was perfectly curved.

She stared at Allison, her grin growing wider with each passing second.

A new though invaded the cyborg’s mind, a terrifying idea that threatened to ruin everything the women had built between one another.

Allison raised a hand towards Emily, her eyes growing horrified.

“Are you sure?” Allison whispered.

Emily stared at her, the smile growing wider.

“Yes.”

Emily stepped over her forgotten lab coat, and padded her way towards Allison, a hungry look on her face. Allison stared back, somehow disbelieving her luck.

Something inside her screamed that this isn’t love.

_Emily’s doing this for lust. Because she wants to fuck! Nothing more!_

Allison shivered. She pushed those thoughts out of her mind, and focused on the woman in front of her. A gentle smile crept onto her lips, her eyes twinkled, and her breath became shallow.

She was happy.

Allison slowly began to remove her tank top when Emily placed a hand on her shoulder, a coy smile at her lips.

“Let me,” she said in a husky whisper.

Allison blushed, and rested her hands on the workbench behind her. Emily grabbed the cyborg’s black tank top and slowly lifted it over her head, revealing the massive sports bra underneath. She removed this too with a barely concealed sense of lust, and uncovered Allison’s massive breasts.

Emily purred loudly and pressed her lips to Allison’s right nipple. The cyborg closed her eyes, turned her head to the ceiling, and moaned in ecstasy. As Emily’s tongue swirled around Allison’s erect nipple, her hands crept to the cyborg’s belt. She unbuckled it quickly, and with a little assistance from Allison, removed both panties and jeans in one swift motion.

Allison kicked off her jeans, letting them tumble off into the corners of the armory. She was naked now, her arms still gripping her workbench. She craved to grab Emily’s head, and guide the fragile doctor onto her knees, but somehow the denial of instant pleasure made her ecstasy all the more powerful. It was the anticipation.

She groaned as Emily gave one final suck to her nipple and began to kiss her way down Allison’s chest.

Emily stopped at her sternum and delivered a kiss.

Emily stopped at her belly button and delivered a kiss, eliciting a small giggle from Allison. Only Emily knew she was ticklish down there.

Emily stopped, just before Allison’s pulsating heat, her lips tracing nauseating circles. Allison’s fingers tightened on the workbench, her titanium fingers leaving deep impressions in the soft plastic.

Finally, Emily was on her knees, and her mouth gently slid of Allison’s swollen clit. She began slowly. Kissing it gently, teasing it. Allison groaned in frustration, her thighs angling testily. Emily wrapped her arm’s around the cyborg’s legs, steadying them, and continued her nauseating ritual.

“Stop _teasing_ me,” she whispered.

Emily continued. She licked idly, kissed gently, and sucked maddeningly.

Allison’s head spun. Her eyes were welded shut with pleasure, her back was arched, and her head was tilted back. Her entire mind, body and spirit was focused between her legs, where Emily had her keyed and wound so tight Allison thought she was going to explode.

“Emily,” she gasped. The doctor finally began her work in earnest.

She put her full attention on Allison’s trembling clit. Her tongue swirled around it in graceful arcs, and she sucked with light pressure, Allison’s hips bucking with every new effort. She was pressing herself towards Emily. She wanted more.

Emily’s hands worked idly at Allison’s breasts, kneading the soft flesh, her gentle fingers occasionally gracing over the cyborg’s erect nipples. Suddenly, Emily moved her right hand down towards Allison’s pulsating hips, and with the tenderness only available to a surgeon, once more began to tease Allison.

The cyborg moaned in ecstasy and frustration. She could contain herself no longer. Her hands flew to the back of Emily’s head, and pressed the doctor deeper into her hips.

Emily smiled. She pulled her mouth away from Allison just long enough to get her hands into the gap, before continuing her work. Allison moaned louder now as Emily’s fingers drove themselves deep inside the cyborg.

Emily smiled wider. It was a tight fit. Her fingers were practically going numb, but the warmth, the energy, the smell kept her going. While her right hand hummed away inside Allison’s, Emily’s left hand drifted towards her own hips. They arrived to find the space between her thighs sopping wet, and ripe for the taking.

She moaned in pleasure and continued her work. Her fingers drove deeper, her kisses became more firm, and her tongue began to probe ever deeper into Allison.

The cyborg began to vibrate. A coy hand flew to her mouth, covering its halting gasps. Allison’s back arched in anticipation.

Emily drove harder now. She could feel the moment coming.

“ _Emily_ ,” Allison whispered.

She drove her fingers deeper, pumped harder. Her mouth tired, but Emily refused to quit. She wasn’t going to stop until Allison was satisfied. Then they’d begin again, with Emily on her back against the cold steel of the deck.

Emily’s fingers drove deeper inside herself now, stoking the fire.

“ _Emily…_ ” Allison whispered. Her hand crept from her mouth to her breast, which she massaged, teasing the nipple with her fingers while Emily labored below. An electricity pounded through her whole body now.

_There!_

They could feel it now, a wave of fire passing through the two of them. Emily stayed on course, careful not to alter her actions. She was working perfectly. Her lips, her tongue, her fingers, all working in concert with Allison’s vibrating hips and fingers.

“ _Emily_ ,” Allison moaned.

The heat grew.

“ _Emily…_ ”

It was expanding faster and faster. Set to catch both of them on fire.

“ _EMILY!_ ”

Allison screamed it. Her jaw locked in a primal moan, but no sound came out. Her back arched in climax, and her hips rocked with joy. Emily tried to cry out, but found she had no air in her lungs. An electric current had shot its way from her fingers to her brain, taking all feeling, save for a sudden burst of ecstasy from her.

 

Allison smiled and slid onto the floor, dragging Emily on top of her.

The two women lay there, panting, exhausted. Allison wrapped her arms around Emily and kissed the woman on the lips. Emily kissed back, with a passion she’d never known before.

They worked until Emily’s lips were sore from the effort, Allison only releasing once the doctor pressed a hand to her chin. She laid her head against the deck plates, covered in Emily’s sweat, savoring her musk.

Emily twisted on top of Allison, her eyes closed, enjoying the touch of Allison’s skin, trying to hold on to the deep energy that still burnt inside of her.

“So… what’s next?” She asked.

Allison smiled. She wrapped her arms tightly around Emily, and rolled the doctor onto her back, receiving a look of shock for her effort.

Allison propped herself up on all fours, and slowly pulled a roll of para-cord from a nearby crate. She unrolled a length of it, and looked at Emily with a sinister expression. The doctor looked back, grinning.

“Your turn.”


End file.
